Monday, June 20, 2016

First Day of Summer

The first day of summer
arrives like a maniac to a
dinner party he wasn’t
invited to but everyone

His eyes are wild,
his hair is a mess,
he yells a lot, he wants
to play electric guitar
while surfing.

He makes it hard to sit
around the dinner table,
the butter softens, chairs
are sticky. Everyone is
slightly uncomfortable.

But he’s always forgiven.
Women love him.
Men want to be him.
Children run to him like
he’s made of candy.

He wants to stay up late,
he wants to listen to the
ocean at midnight and the
wind blow over the fields,
He tells dirty jokes.

He’s never wrong,
yet he can be ceaselessly cruel,
and go on for endless hours telling
stories that have no point over warming
beers and fruity island drinks.

He smokes, he stalls, he lingers,
he tickles, he teases, he incites
revolution, he demands attention,
he encourages nudity, he needs

He’ll come to the party,
get everyone laughing and
as soon as everyone is nice and
comfortable with him, used to him;
he’ll leave.

In his wake are summer flings,
several poor choices, sun burns,
empty wallets, liver failure,
riots, chaos and general unease.
And we can’t wait till he shows up again.

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